The tuna know, and the other fish too. Someone has come into their homeland of the sea, and attracted them with lights so powerful that they can be seen from space. Their vast ranges encircled with nets are being enclosed around them. Soon they will be hauled onto decks where the slaughter begins.
Proud, sleek, swordfish will have their swords hacked off with hatchets rendering them helpless as they lie upon the decks, dying. Porpoises caught in the nets will suffocate. Blood of the trapped will cover the decks. Those not yet caught are free, but the very water they live in becomes more radioactive and polluted every day.
But they are only the creatures of the sea. All their deaths can do is to show us our fate in a terrible bloody play.
Observe. Our turn will come. For we are the fish, and our killers attract us with the lights of hundreds of millions of television sets and of malls and sports stadiums. Those who would disarm us are like the men with hatchets, waiting to render us helpless. The nets are closing in and many of us are as powerless as the trapped fish.
There is so much more I would like to say, but my show is coming on.